Inside look at process that got Santo into Baseball Hall of Fame

Determining fate for some of game's legends seemed so complicated beforehand, so simple when completed

December 06, 2011|By Dave van Dyck, Chicago Tribune reporter

Fellow third baseman Brooks Robinson was on the 16-person committee that elected Ron Santo to the Hall of Fame. (Matthew Emmons/US Presswire photo)

DALLAS — The final segment of Ron Santo's extremely long, winding, rut-filled, detour-delayed road to the Hall of Fame was completed last weekend. Sadly, he wasn't there to see it.

Not to be cold, but that doesn't lessen the importance of the event or the process that created it, because, in the end, the goal was accomplished. Not Santo's personal goal, but the goal of putting the right people into Cooperstown's hallowed chamber.

And Santo belongs, at least according to the 16 people on the committee who spent hours of their weekend debating the merits of Santo and nine others from baseball's so-called Golden Era.

Watching the process in person, from one of those 16 seats at one very large table, was a fascinating experience, a fun-filled, fast-paced but fact-based give-and-take.

Determining such an important fate for some of the game's true legends seemed so complicated beforehand, so simple when completed.

It was as overwhelming an honor to sit in the same room with Hank Aaron, Ralph Kiner, Al Kaline, Juan Marichal, Brooks Robinson, Tommy Lasorda and Billy Williams as it was to decide who might join them in the Hall of Fame.

Fifteen of the 16 members determined that, after all the years of waiting and wondering, Santo was worthy of having his plaque placed beside the others. And that longtime White Sox great Minnie Minoso was not.

The joy of Santo's election was countered by the sadness for Minoso.

In truth, they were allowed the same chance, given the same amount of time and consideration by the panel. So were the other eight candidates, their merits on and off the field discussed until there was nothing more to say.

And provincial Chicagoans have to remember that all the heartaches over the years for Santo and Minoso were no less painful than those felt in other cities and by families for Jim Kaat, Gil Hodges, Tony Oliva and the others.

It is not easy to get into the door at baseball's Hall of Fame. It shouldn't be. Maybe it shouldn't be as frustrating for some, but making three-fourths of any sized group agree on one person is, obviously, a close-to-impossible task.

Actually, this was the fairest chance any of them has had at attaining Hall status since their 15 years of failure on the baseball writers' ballot. The other processes — most notably votes by all living Hall of Famers — could, by numbers, be neither as inclusive of information nor conclusive in a final decision. That they elected no one was never a surprise.

This time, it was one era decided on by one small committee, a mixture of former players and executives — including former Sox GM Roland Hemond — steered by three veteran media members who came armed with statistics of comparable players.

So how did the process work?

The 10 candidates were discussed, in alphabetical order, for as long as necessary. Members were allowed to speak freely without fear of their feelings leaving the room, per orders from Hall officials.

Each candidate had his entire career statistically analyzed and post career scrutinized

In Santo's case, the discussion included the years of privately playing with Type 1 diabetes and his immense passion for the game, even after losing his legs to the disease.

In Minoso's case, his late-arriving entry into the major leagues and his struggles with bias as a Spanish-speaking black Cuban were subjects as to why he had fallen through various cracks over several decades of Hall of Fame voting.

A case could be made — and indeed was — for every candidate. It was a very difficult decision, but it became clear, overwhelmingly, that Santo was the most qualified of the candidates and had been overlooked in past years.

During the sessions, there was no real campaigning or impassioned speeches — although Williams made his usual quiet endorsement of his former teammate — just an exchange of honest opinion. Yes, some of it may have swayed fence-sitting voters. Or maybe it didn't. Some voters may have had their minds made up before arriving, some may have struggled until the very final vote, when up to four candidates could be checked.

Even committee members don't know who voted for whom, the ballot coming in written form, eventually to be tucked away, according to Hall officials, in a secret vault.